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“Nay, lady, no more tears from you,” his voice sounded tight. “ ’Tis time I go downstairs and it’s time for you to prepare yourself for the feast. And a suggestion if I may; wear a dress that will travel well.”
She nodded obediently, wiping at her eyes. He pulled her to him and kissed her forehead before moving quickly for the door.
“William?” she called after him.
He stopped at the archway. “Aye, love?”
Her eyes were wide at him, her face pale and wan. “Are ye sure?” she whispered, her eyes narrowing at him to catch any hint of doubt he might display.
His face went hard and determined. “Never more certain of anything in my life.”
He fled the chamber. By mid-morning, Jordan was bathed and dressed and packed. She had tried to be secretive about it, especially with Jemma’s big ears and mouth, but she feared that she had not done a very good job. Jemma began to look strangely at her and ask even stranger questions until Jordan went in her bedchamber and closed the door.
Her bath had been long and she had washed her hair twice, for she had no idea when she would again get the chance. Dressing had been the tricky part; she wanted to wear something more elegant than a traveling dress, yet something that would wear well and she would be comfortable in for some time.
She eventually decided on a dark blue linen surcoat with a heavy lining. The bodice was snug and flattering, covering her delicate skin. The sleeves were long and moved well with her.
She had a heavy petticoat under the abundant skirt, a pair of thick hose, and the doeskin boots that the tanner had made for her. She was grateful for their durability and comfort. She had pulled her long hair off her face with a matching lavender-and-gold hair band, then proceeded to braid it into one thick braid that draped prettily over her shoulder. Tendrils of hair fell loosely about her face.
She had a lush blue cloak lined with white rabbit that matched the surcoat perfectly, and she tucked it under the bed along with her satchel. The bag itself held her essentials as requested: a brush, a small mirror, two cakes of Lavender-scented soap and a rag, another set of stockings, a spare shift, a small vial of beeswax for her chapped lips, and her lighter weight linen surcoat with the gold girdle.
With all of her surcoats and jewels, everything she was taking to start her new life was shoved into that small little bag. She absolutely had no regret but for one, she prayed her father would eventually be able to forgive her for doing what she must.
There was a knock at her door and she opened it to find Paris smiling at her.
“Good morn, my lady,” he said pleasantly. “I am your escort this day.”
She smiled and stepped into the antechamber, noticing Kieran had come for Jemma. She was pleasant and smiling, but deep in her heart she already missed her friends and kin who had become so important to her. As much as leaving was to be her ultimate joy, it would also be her great sorrow because she could honestly say that she loved these people.
“Come, Lady Jordan, for the gallery awaits,” Paris said, prodding her towards the door. Without a hind glance to her cousin, she latched onto Paris’ arm and swept from the room.
Jemma waited until the door closed before whirling to Kieran.
“Something is not right,” she insisted.
He looked puzzled. “What do you mean?”
Jemma shook her small finger at him. “I mean, Jordan is acting strangely. Most strangely. Something’s amiss and I intend to find out what it is.”
He smiled and pulled her against him, lifting her petite body off the floor. He had been quite open with his affections for her in recent days when they were alone. At first she had expressed outrage, but in truth, she craved his touch. He was the gentlest man she had ever known, for all of his incredible size.
“Your mind is playing tricks on you,” he said, burying his face in her neck. “There is nothing awry.”
She began to melt at his touch but was determined not to lose sight of her thoughts.
“Stop it, ye brute,” she said half seriously. “Put me down.”
He let her feet touch the ground but he did not release her until she ducked down and pulled herself free of the tree-size arms.
“Be serious, Kieran,” she stamped her small foot. “Come with me to her bedchamber. Mayhap there is something there that will help me discover what she is up to.”
He grinned wolfishly. “My pleasure.”
“Ooch.” She thrust a warning finger at him. “None of that, I tell ye.”
He looked properly contrite. “As you wish, but you are disappointing me.”
She jutted her chin up and turned on her heel. “That is your misfortune.”
